


A Better Man

by marauder_in_warblerland



Category: Glee
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 08:58:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3404819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marauder_in_warblerland/pseuds/marauder_in_warblerland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine has a wedding reception to attend, but first, he really needs to talk to his mom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Better Man

Kurt and Blaine are about to make their grand entrance into the reception when Blaine sees her lingering by the gift table.

“Mom?” His voice comes out small, less like a married man and more like a little boy who’s just done something very, very wrong.

She turns and her face is a blank--flat and unreadable. He swallows and squeezes Kurt’s— _his husband’s_ —hand. She’s never unreadable; none of them are. As long as he’s been old enough to be aware of himself as an Anderson, he’s thought of his family as human plates of glass. They’re breakable, yes, but also wonderfully transparent. They cry and laugh and rage out in the open for everyone to see. Except now.

“Kurt?” He jerks his head toward the table, “Do you mind if I—?”

“Of course!” Kurt nods, almost frantically, before Blaine can try to finish that sentence. “I should go find Carole anyway. She’s probably already deciding how to string me up by my unmentionables.” He backs away toward the reception with a double thumbs-up, and then it’s just Blaine and a mother who just got the surprise of a lifetime. 

He steps forward, squeezing his own hand, as if to hold Kurt’s place. “Mom . . . I—” God, he doesn’t even know where to start. She seemed like she was enjoying herself during the ceremony, but so much of that was a beautiful blur. Mostly, he remembers try not to trip down the aisle and feeling his ears burn when Kurt said, “I do.” For all he knows, she was sitting there quietly stewing, and why not? Her son just got married without even a warning. My god, if that was his son up there—

“Blaine?” His mom steps forward too, and he realizes that her eyes have gone from blank to concerned. “Are you still in there?”

He nods and purses his lips. He should say something.

“Well, good. I was starting to think that your brain had already gone on _honeymoon_.” She lingers on the final word, like she’s still trying it on for size.

“No.” He shakes his head. “I . . . I don’t think we even know where we’re—” He stops, lost for words, and she reaches out to touch where his hands are clasped together in front of his chest. At the contact, he breathes, and the damn cracks open like a flood. “Mom, _I’m so sorry_. I promise, I didn’t plan it like this. _We_ didn’t plan it like this. We were just going to be in the wedding party, but then Sue said that there was a ‘Brittana emergency’ and there were these _suits_.” 

He knows that he’s running on and flailing like a child, but he’s not sure he could stop if he tried. “Mom,” he breathes, “ _I love him_. I love him so much, and I know it didn’t work out last time, but we’ve both come so far. He’s been going to therapy ever since the—” He gestures out toward the corn fields, like the breakup is out there somewhere, gathering bales of hay. “And you know how much Dr. Freedman has helped me. You know! I— I can play music again and I can feel so much of everything that I lost while I was on my own in New York. I fought to get that back, and this is why.” He points to the barn, but then shakes his head; that’s not quite right. “I don’t mean that I was only trying to get better so that I could be with Kurt. I’m not trying to be better for him. What I mean is that I wanted to be better so that I could feel days like today! I wanted to feel these gorgeous, indescribable days that are so soaked with joy I almost can’t stand it. I wanted to feel all of it, mom, and I do. _I do_.”

At some point in all of that mess, he must have closed his eyes. When he stops, he opens them again to find his sweet, beautiful mother giggling in his face.

“Oh _Blaine_ ,” she laughs into her hand, and Blaine tries not to pout. “I was just messing with you! I never expected—” She throws out her hands in his direction and falls into another fit.

“Well, if you’re quite finished mocking my wedding day—” he turns to march into the reception, but she holds up a hand, still shaking with laughter. 

“No! Honey, stop.” Her hand lands on his arm, and he slowly turns back to face her. “Blaine, it was beautiful. You were all beautiful, and you have nothing to be sorry for. So, you decided to get married five minutes before the ceremony, so what? I’ve done worse.” She squints up at the ceiling, like her memories are up there waiting to be revisited. “Have I told you about the time that I convinced your father to go skinny dipping out behind your Grand Papa’s cabin? Now that was spontaneous.”

“Mom!”

“I think we got Cooper that night too,” she shrugs. “Still worth it.”

“But,” Blaine has too many thoughts, and luckily there isn’t room to imagine his parents having sex. Ever. “I always thought that since you and dad got married out of the blue and then—” He doesn’t want to say _and then he finally left you because you never should have been married in the first place_ , but it must be written all over his face.

She sighs. “You thought that because our marriage didn’t work out, I wouldn’t want you following in our footsteps?” It comes out as a question, but Blaine doesn’t need to answer. “Oh, sweetheart. You two have never been like us. Even when you were at your very lowest, Kurt was never me, and, darling, you were never your father.”

Blaine’s breath slips out shaky and too loud. He doesn’t quite trust himself to respond.

“I wish that he could have been here,” she nods, leaning into his arm, “but you’re a better man than he ever was, and more importantly, you two are better people together than we ever were. Do you understand me?”

Her smile spreads across her face like a sunrise and Blaine can’t help but smile back. He understands. Or, at least, he thinks he understands. If the last few months have taught him anything, it’s that he’s his own man. He’s not the Warblers’ or NYADA’s or his Dad’s. He’s not even Kurt’s, or at least not in the way he once tried to be. He’s a man all his own, and today that man got (perfectly, wonderfully) married.

He ducks his head toward the ground, and lets her give him a peck on the cheek. “Thanks, Mom.”

“You’re welcome Mr. Anderson-Hummel,” she smiles, looping her arm through his. “Or is it Hummel-Anderson? Or is it just one or the other? Wait, don’t tell me—”

Blaine laughs as they say in unison, “We haven’t thought about that yet.” They have the same smile; he’s always loved that.

“Well then, Mr. Whoever you are,” she says with a wink, “would you care to lead a lady to the party? I’ve heard a rumor from a little bird—”

Blaine rolls his eyes. “That would be Carole.” 

“—Yes, well I heard from your beautiful mother-in-law that the brides sprang for an open bar.”

“They did.”

“And as much as I am delighted by your nuptials, that baby has my name on it.”

Blaine grins at the ground and leads her, slowly, toward the festivities. “Speaking of bars, do you remember our last house party before I left for NYADA?”

“The one where I had two drinks and fell over the azaleas?”

“Mmmhmmm.” Blaine nods.

“I do remember that night . . . and that morning. Every now and then the universe likes to remind me that I’m a lightweight.” 

Blaine bites his bottom lip as they walk. “Actually, you’re not as bad as me.”

“Really?” When Blaine glances over, she looks positively delighted. “Blaine Devon What's-his-name! As the mother of the groom, I hereby demand that you tell me that story, or I will call your brother and tell him that you got married without letting him give a speech.” 

“You drive a hard bargain,” Blaine says, with mock solemnity, “The story it is. Now, do you remember when I was in West Side Story?” 

Later that night, after one or two drinks, Blaine’s mother asks Blaine and Kurt if they’ve given any more thought to their trip— _because Cabo San Lucas is fantastic this time of year_ — and this time when Pam Anderson says “honeymoon” the word sounds like it just might fit.


End file.
